


Anthony DiNozzo - Moving Back Again

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7521007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's back in DC ... what happens as he catches up with old friends and co-workers? And what changes are afoot at NCIS?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, Gibbs.”

Special Agent Jethro Gibbs looked up from the door panel he was sanding and allowed a rare look of surprise to appear on his face.

“DiNozzo?”

“The very same.”

“What you doing here?” asked Gibbs as he automatically reached for a mason jar to fill with bourbon.

“Thought I’d come see how you’re doing,” said Tony.  He shook his head at the proffered drink, “Nah.  I’m driving.”

“Where’s Tali?”

“With a sitter,” said Tony.

“You back in DC for good?” asked Gibbs.

“Possibly,” said Tony, “depends on a few things.  How’s the team?”

“Good,” said Gibbs, “bigger than when you left.”

“Hard to replace me,” said Tony.

“Things have changed, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs as he took a sip of his drink.  If Tony didn’t know better, he would almost have thought that Gibbs looked uncomfortable.

“So, if I said I wanted to come back …” began Tony.

“You left, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs.  “You made your decision.”

“Seemed like you agreed with it,” said Tony mildly, “don’t remember you trying to talk me out of it.”

“A man should be able to make his own decisions,” said Gibbs, “and stick with them.”

“What if I’ve changed my mind?” asked Tony.

“You think you can just swan back in when you feel like it?  Doesn’t work like that.”

“Unless you’re Brent Langer,” said Tony thoughtfully.  “Seem to remember he actually went over to the dark side – FBI, wasn’t it?  But you let him back.”

“Different situation,” said Gibbs.

“And Ziva, she came back.”

“You brought her back,” Gibbs pointed out.

“So that was why you let her back in?” asked Tony.

“You know why I let her back.  She was family.  I thought you wanted her back too.”

“And _you_ came back,” said Tony, “but I guess that’s different too.”

“You know why I left,” said Gibbs, “I’d been blown up.  I needed a break.”

“So that’s what it was,” said Tony, “a break.  Not quitting because you were pissed with everyone?”

“Tony,” said Gibbs, “what’s this about?  You left.  You decided field work wasn’t for you.  What’s changed your mind?”

“I didn’t say I had,” pointed out Tony, “it was a hypothetical question.”

“Tony, like I said, things have changed.  New structure to the team.  New people.  It’s not the team you left.”

“Agent Gibbs, you’ve _changed_ things?  You get blown up again?”

“Different people.  Things change naturally.  McGee has stepped up.  He’s done well.”

“And you don’t want to disrupt him?  Wouldn’t be fair on him?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.  I admire the caring attitude.  Feels a bit foreign.  A little unGibbs-like but, like you say, things change.”

“So, what you been doing?” asked Gibbs trying to move off uncomfortable territory.  “Thought you were going to be travelling.”

“Did some of that but you can’t keep moving round with a kid.  Can’t be tumbleweed for ever.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Baltimore.”

“Baltimore?  How long?”

“A few months.  Cheaper to live there than DC.  And there were … reasons.”

“And you didn’t let us know?”

“I was busy,” said Tony, “settling Tali.  Working things out.”

“And they’re worked out now?” asked Gibbs.

“Good question,” said Tony, “work in progress.”

“You’ll get there,” said Gibbs.

“Sure,” said Tony.

“We missed you, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs.

“You seem to have done all right,” commented Tony, “with your _enhanced_ team.  And your amazing senior field agent.”

“We had to move on,” said Gibbs, “crime didn’t stop because you walked away.”

“Didn’t think it would,” said Tony.

“You were a good agent,” said Gibbs.

“With the emphasis on _were_ ,” said Tony.

“DiNozzo, what’s going on?” asked Gibbs.  “You were set on leaving.  You had a plan.  Things didn’t stop while you were away.  You can’t expect everything to be the same as when you left.”

“I don’t,” said Tony.

“Just so you know,” said Gibbs.  “You gonna to come to the Yard?  See everyone?”

“I guess,” said Tony.  “ _And just so you know,_ I didn’t expect things to be the same.  I hoped they wouldn’t be.”

“What?”

“I wanted to see if you’d look me in the eye again.  Not look at me as if I was a waste of space.”

“We going to do this again, DiNozzo?” sighed Gibbs.  “It was time you went.  You know that.”

“Sure,” said Tony agreeably, “but you could’ve found a different way of making it clear.”

“You know I don’t do the touchy feely stuff,” said Gibbs, “what you see is what you get.”

“Thanks,” said Tony, “I guess I’ll go now and try to figure out what I’ve just seen so I can see what I’ve got.  Goodnight, Gibbs.”

Gibbs felt a familiar sense of frustration.  He wondered why conversations with Tony so often ended with this feeling of miscommunication.  Perhaps they had relied too long on their _unspoken_ communication and found, when words were needed too, that they didn’t know how to use them.

“You’re looking good, Tony,” said Gibbs in a bid to show that he was pleased to see his former agent even if their conversation had gone wrong somewhere.

“Thanks, Gibbs,” said Tony accepting the olive branch.  “See you around.”

Gibbs nodded and bent to his work again, deciding that was as good as things would get and that channels were still open.

NCISNCIS

Director Vance smoothed his tie again and, with iron control, refrained from drumming his fingers on his desk.  He wished he hadn’t given up toothpicks as a tribute to Jackie although he thought she would understand if he indulged today.  He was waiting for a visit from the new Secretary of the Navy and he was anxious.

Sarah Porter had stayed in office as Secretary in the months following the presidential election but had just been moved to a new post and Truman Phelps appointed in her place.  Vance had done his homework on the new man who had briefly served as an ensign in the navy in his twenties before being invalided out.  Phelps had then turned to business, community service and politics. Secretary of the Navy was his first presidential appointment and he was something of an unknown quantity.  Leon believed he had done a good job as Director but, remembering his own actions as a new appointee, he was wary of other potential ‘new brooms’.

There was a knock at his office door before it opened to reveal his assistant and Truman Phelps.  Leon smoothed his tie once more, put a welcoming smile on his face and stood up to welcome his new Boss.

“Mr Secretary.  Good morning.  May I congratulate you on your new post?”

“Director,” acknowledged Phelps.

“Would you like coffee … ice water?” asked Vance.

“No, thank you.  I don’t have much time.  Another matter has come up.  Shall we sit?” replied Phelps gesturing towards the conference table.

Vance gave one of his grave Directorial nods and the two moved to the table.

“I believe one of my predecessors appointed you as Director on the understanding that you would sort out various _problems_ which arose during Jennifer Shepard’s tenure?”

“That’s correct.  Secretary Davenport.  And I believe I did that to his satisfaction.”

“It is my impression,” said Phelps, “that he expected you to be a modernising influence on the Agency.”

“We have introduced new protocols,” said Vance beginning to relax, “our digital capability has been enhanced greatly.”

“And yet the NCIS headquarters building was bombed,” the Secretary continued, “and I believe the bomb was planted in your car?”

“That’s right,” said Vance.  “The circumstances were exceptional.”

“As you say.”

The Director decided to stay quiet and wait to see what was going to happen.  He suspected that the new Secretary was trying to get a rise out of him and that calm would be the best response.

“You have done some excellent work, Director,” said Phelps.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“And, as you say, the technological expertise of the Agency has increased most impressively.”

Vance nodded graciously.

“So I think a new role would be a good move for you.”

“Sir?”

“The Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs is minded to set up a body to investigate how the various federal agencies can pool resources and act in a more joined up way to fight the various threats which face our country.  I think you would be excellently placed to head it up.”

“That’s very flattering, Sir,” said Vance.

“And when the final report is made I would anticipate that the author of that report would be in a strong position to head up any new organization which was established.”

“It sounds … interesting,” said Leon, “but I think I would prefer to remain in my current position.  I believe I have the experience and insight which is needed.  As you say, our country faces many threats and I feel it would be unwise … I mean, more strategically sound to leave me where I am.”

“You should take some time to think it over,” said Phelps.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Vance, “I would prefer to continue in my current work.”

Phelps smiled a politician’s practised smile and, for the first time, Leon felt a chill go down his back.

“You misunderstand me, Director.  Or may I call you Leon?  You are well suited to this new job.  I do not consider you to be well suited to your old one.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed as he noted the reference to his ‘old’ job but decided to fight.

“My job is not a political appointment,” he pointed out, “you can’t just fire me.”

Truman smiled again.  “Nobody ever does a job perfectly,” he said, “there’s always room for improvement.  Areas subject to criticism.  Areas which might not withstand a close scrutiny.”

Leon resisted the temptation to shift uncomfortably and retained his bland expression.

“NCIS has gained a reputation as something of a _maverick_ organization,” said the new Secretary.

“We have got results,” defended Vance.

“True.  But I find myself wondering if the results could have been obtained in a different way.  And with more liaison with other federal agencies.”

“I’d be interested to hear your proposals about that,” said Vance

“I’m sure you would,” said Phelps.  “But I feel that someone new at the helm would be in a better position to implement them.  Someone I feel more in tune with.”  He gazed thoughtfully at Leon.  “I truly believe you would find the new position suited to your skill set,” he said.

“Nevertheless …” began Leon.

“… and,” continued Phelps, “it can be difficult to obtain new posts at your level.  You have children, I believe?”

“A boy and a girl.”

“Delightful.  And I understand your wife was killed.  At the same time as the father of one of your own agents.  A man who had killed someone in this country.  And I believe that agent had become one under unusual circumstances?”

“The circumstances were exceptional,” said Vance suppressing his anger.

“You seem to attract a lot of _exceptional circumstances_ ,” mused Phelps.  “The bombing of NCIS headquarters.  The murder of your wife.  Any more that I should know about?”

“You have done some research,” said Vance evasively.

“I come from a military background.  My father sent me to a military academy and it was always expected that I would go into the navy …”

“Which you did,” said Leon, “until you were invalided out.”

Phelps smiled.  “I’m not the only one who has done research, I see.  The point I was going to make is that my early training taught me to scope out the terrain, assess the problems.  I try not to go into a situation unprepared.  And, in this case, my preparation has suggested to me that NCIS would benefit from being led by a new Director.”

“And what do you think this new Director could bring to the job?” asked Vance.

“A more flexible approach to problem solving.  A broader range of life experience.  Some business expertise.”

“NCIS is a _criminal_ investigative service,” said Vance, “I would have expected that experience in that field would be a given.”

“So would I,” agreed Phelps.

Vance remained stubbornly silent.

“Director Vance,” said Phelps, “there is much to admire in the way that you have led the agency.  I do not believe, however, that your leadership style would take NCIS in the direction I want it to take.  I have offered you an alternative.  I have tried to be reasonable and fair.”  He raised a hand to forestall another comment from Leon, “but I am prepared to take other action to remove you from that chair.  And you would be well-advised not to test my resolve in this matter.”

Leon glared at the Secretary before nodding briefly.

“Good,” said Phelps nodding in return, “I think that’s a wise choice.  I expect that you will do well in your new role.”

He stood and extended his hand to Leon.  “I thank you for your service, Director.  I suggest that you clear your desk within the next week.  The chair of the Senate Committee will be contacting you about your future work.”

Leon thought about rejecting the handshake but decided not to descend into pettiness.  That didn’t mean, however, that he would not be doing more research into the reasons why Phelps’ navy career had ended so early.  He wondered if he could tap into Gibbs’ encyclopaedic knowledge of where the bodies were buried.  NCIS had cost him dear in many ways and he was determined not to leave unless there was no other choice.

NCISNCIS

“Tony?” said Tim McGee in surprise as he opened the door of his apartment.

“Gotta say,” said Tony meditatively, “that you and Gibbs haven’t lost your edge.”

“What?” asked Tim as he felt the familiar feeling of bewilderment arising from a conversation with DiNozzo.

“Gibbs recognised me when I turned up.  Good skills, both of you.”

“You’ve been to see the Boss?  He didn’t say anything,” said Tim.

Tony didn’t answer immediately but simply raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, he didn’t,” Tim corrected himself, “what was I thinking?”

Tony slapped him sympathetically on the shoulder.  “Some things don’t change, Tim.  Can I come in?”

“What?  Oh, yeah.  Sure.  Delilah’s at work.”

“I didn’t come to see Delilah,” said Tony, “but how is Wheels?”

“Good.  She’s good.  Where’s Tali?”

“She’s at work too.”

“What?”

“It was fate, Tim.  You know we went to France?”

“Yes,” said Tim as he followed Tony into his living room.  He diverted into the kitchen and retrieved two beers for them.

“We went to the Cannes film festival.”

“Of course you did,” said Tim.

“René Delacroix was there.”

“Who?”

“Greatest French Canadian movie producer of all time,” said Tony, “he was casting for a new film.  A remake of Maigret.”

“Maigret?”

“One of the most celebrated of French detectives.  Fictional, of course.  Very polite and proper.  Not at all like Gibbs.  Anyway, I digress.  The remake is set in Quebec.  Centres around Maigret’s granddaughter who is a prodigy.  Less than four years old but already solving crimes which baffle everyone else.  René took one look at Tali and hired her.”

“For what?”

“For the part of Claudette Simone Maigret, of course,” said Tony in an offended tone.

“Really?” asked Tim.

“No, not really,” said Tony with a return to reality.  “She’s with a sitter.”

“Idiot,” said Tim without rancour.

“I’ve missed you, McGullible,” said Tony.

“You mean you’ve missed being able to give out the nicknames,” said Tim.

“True,” said Tony, “but I have missed you as well.”

“What you been doing?” asked Tim.

“This and that.  You know.  Hither and thither.  Upstairs, downstairs, in my lady’s chamber.”

“What?”

“Hey,” said Tony defensively, “I live in a world of nursery rhymes now.”

“Whereas before, you lived in the real world,” said Tim sarcastically.

Tony grinned in acknowledgement.  “You may be right,” he agreed.

“So,” said Tim, “fatherhood.  How’s that going?”

“It’s enhanced both my skills of negotiation and my strength of will.”

“How so?”

“I can talk my daughter down from unreasonable demands, ignore tantrums and stand my ground.  I’m sure it makes me ideally qualified for … something.  I’m just not sure what.”

“Any plans?” asked McGee.

“This and that.  You know …”

“Hither and thither,” supplied Tim.

“You catch on quick, McSpeedygonzalez,” said Tony.

“I’ve spent a year as Gibbs’ senior field agent,” said Tim wryly, “it speeds up the responses.”

“How’s that going?  Gibbs said the team’s grown.”

“Yeah.  Had to bring in a couple more desks to the squad room.”

“Bet that messed with your eye-lines,” said Tony.

“What?”

“Remember that lecture you gave the interns about your desk being precisely placed to give the best eye-lines.  So that you always knew what was going on.  And that stealthBoss couldn’t creep up on you.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Tim, “not that there’s _any_ protection against stealthBoss.”

“Didn’t like to burst your bubble,” said Tony, “but until Abby makes him wear bells you don’t stand a chance.”

“Do you think she would?”

“What?” asked Tony.

“Abby.  Could she get Gibbs to wear bells?  She’s the only one who could.”

“I don’t know,” said Tony honestly, “but can I be there when she does the asking?”

Tim and Tony sat silent for a moment, nursing their beers and considering the likely outcome of Abby presenting Gibbs with a set of bells.  Tony was the first to emerge from the reverie.

“So,” he said, “senior field agent?  What’s that like?”

“Well,” said McGee judiciously, “it’s a heady experience.”

“It is?”

“Gibbs delegates a lot of things to me.  Consults me, asks my advice before making decisions.”

“He does?”

“He’s respectful.  Insists we work as a team.  My seniority is acknowledged.  Lots of responsibility.  It’s been amazing.”

“Is that as true as my daughter being cast as an infant prodigy detective?” asked Tony after a moment of silence.

“Yeah,” said Tim gloomily, “he’s still living up to the second B.  More so if anything.”

Tony found himself releasing a breath in relief.  “Had me going there for a minute, McTease,” he said.  “Although he said you’d done well,” he added.

“He did?” said Tim.

“Yeah.  And that one is true.”

“Would it kill him to tell me that to my face?” asked Tim plaintively.

“Good question,” said Tony, “but probably one for Ducky … or for Palmer.  They’re the medical experts.  But he definitely stuck up for you.”

“Why did he need to do that?” asked Tim suspiciously.

“He thought I was angling to come back on the team.”

“And were you?” asked Tim.

“It was a hypothetical question,” said Tony, “I wanted to see his reaction.”

“Why?”

“Not sure.  You know what he was like with me before I left.  I guess I wanted to see if that was still how he felt.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Is it still how he feels?”

“Don’t know, McTim.  You know the Boss.  Enigmatic, keeps his own counsel.”

“Taciturn.”

“Reticent.”

“Tight-lipped.”

“Close-mouthed.”

“Mute.”

“Dumb.”

“Dour.”

“D’you think it’s worrying that we know so many words for silent?” asked Tony.

“If I had time for my novel writing it would be useful,” said Tim.

“There you go, Mclemonadeoutoflemons,” said Tony.

“You really have missed me, haven’t you,” said Tim.

“You have no idea,” said Tony.  “So, how long are you going to stick it?”

“Don’t say those words,” begged Tim.

“What?  What did I say?”

“Stick it,” said Tim, “brings back memories of when I told the Deputy Secretary of State to … well, stick it.”

“Oh yeah,” said Tony, “I heard about that.  Dangerous things happen when Gibbs leaves you in charge.  So, what’s it really like?”

“Nothing’s changed,” said McGee, “team’s got bigger but Gibbs carries on the same.  I think he works on the basis of divide and rule.”

“He likes the competitive vibe,” said Tony, “which is weird considering rule 15.”

“ _Always work as a team_ ,” said Tim.  “But I’ve figured out there’s another rule.”

“Another rule?” asked Tony, “which is?”

“It’s the rule that rules the others.”

“Isn’t that a movie quote?” asked Tony.

“What?”

“You know, ‘one rule to bind them all’?”

“’One _ring_ to rule them all’,” corrected Tim, “ _Lord of the Rings_.”

“You may be right,” conceded Tony.  “Where were we?”

“Getting off the track,” said Tim, “it’s what happens when you start thinking of movies.”

“You’re welcome,” said Tony, “so what rule are you talking about?”

“Gibbs’ rule.  _Do as I say not as I do_.”

“I’m impressed, Tim,” said Tony raising his beer in salute.  So, are you going to sti … stay with the job?”

“What else can I do?” asked Tim.

“There’s heaps of things you could do,” admonished Tony, “you’re not telling me that you’re not fending off the head-hunters in every mail?”

“I get offers,” agreed Tim, “but I like working for NCIS.”

“Just not for Gibbs?” suggested Tony.

“I turned down the job in Okinawa,” remembered Tim.

“That was in Japan,” said Tony.

“I know,” said Tim.

“Was that why you turned it down?  I mean, Okinawa being in Japan which is, you know, not in America … and not near.”

Tim paused to untangle this is in his mind, “not completely.  I didn’t want to stop being a field agent.”

“And now?”

“I wouldn’t go to Okinawa now.  Delilah and I have only just got used to being on the same continent, I don’t want to be away from her again.”

“OK,” said Tony, “not Okinawa.  But another NCIS job somewhere else.”

“What’s this about, Tony?” asked Tim.  “You trying to get me off the team so you can come back?”

“I’m concerned about my _former_ co-worker’s well-being,” said Tony piously, “I mean, I managed the burden of senior field agent but that was due to my excellent physique, strong will and incredible detective skills … but you, I wasn’t sure how you would have coped.”

“Gee, thanks,” said McGee, “you’re all heart.”

“I was just saying, McGee.  You’ve been on the team for years …”

“Not as long as you,” said Tim.

“As Gibbs pointed out, it was time for me to leave.  And since when did you see me as a role model?”

“All the time,” said McGee.

“What?” said Tony in honest surprise.

“Of course you were,” said Tim, “you were more approachable than Gibbs.  You didn’t terrify me … well, not in the same way that Gibbs did.  You were good at your job.  And who else was going to be my role model?  Kate?  Who also terrified me although, to be fair, she did improve my awareness of sexual inequalities and political correctness.”

“I’m touched,” said Tony.

“I know,” said Tim, “and I think you should go into therapy to see if that can be cured.”

“I mean,” said Tony stiffly, “that I’m touched that you held me in such high regard.”

“Not that high,” said Tim thoughtfully.  He looked at Tony’s face and saw a strange mix of emotions and decided to be kind.  “You made the job bearable, Tony.  Which is odd because there were times when I hated you but once you were gone … I guess I appreciated you more.”

“I see,” said Tony, “or, at least, I think I do.  But returning to you … look what being on the job for so long did to me.  Think about what you want to do.  There must be other jobs you could do.”

“There’s a rumour that a Senate committee is going to set up an enquiry into pooling of computer resources,” said McGee, “that sounds kind of interesting …”


	2. Chapter 2

“Enter.”

Tim took a deep breath and opened the door to the Director’s office.

“Director,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about my future with NCIS.”

“Good,” came the reply, “NCIS agents should always be ready for change.  Take a seat, Agent McGee.”

Tim nodded and sat down as directed.  He gazed at the Director and after a couple of seconds found he could no longer keep a straight face and started to laugh.  Fortunately, the Director laughed too.

“I’m sorry,” gasped Tim eventually, “it still seems weird.”

“How do you think I feel?” demanded the new Director.

_Flashback_

_Secretary of the Navy Truman Phelps descended the stairs with Leon Vance in his wake.  Vance had enlisted Gibbs’ help in trying to establish if there was any pressure which could be exerted on the new Secretary but it turned out that Phelps was either scrupulously honest or exceptionally good at concealment.  Leon wasn’t sure where the truth lay but, pragmatically, had come to the conclusion that it would be best to accept the situation and leave NCIS.  Phelps had visited the Navy Yard to hear the final decision in person and was in benevolent mood when he learned that he had got his way._

_The Secretarial smile increased when he reached the MCRT desks and saw its occupants._

_“Agents,” he said, “this seems to be an opportune moment to relay some news.”_

_Gibbs and the others looked up.  Gibbs’ eyes narrowed slightly as he realised that Vance had probably given way._

_Phelps looked graciously at Vance, “Director Vance has an announcement,” he declared._

_Vance looked less than pleased at being bounced into giving the news of his departure.  He had, perhaps, still clung to the possibility that he could snatch victory out of the situation but knew that once he had made a public announcement there was no way back.  He coughed._

_“Some of you will have heard that the Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs has established a group to investigate how federal agencies might better work together to combat terrorist and cyber threats.”_

_Most of his listeners nodded although they didn’t expect anything to come of the proposal.  Federal agencies, including their own, were adept at fighting off any threat to their independence._

_“I have been invited to head up that group,” continued Vance, “and, after careful consideration, I have decided to accept.  It was a difficult decision …”  he could almost hear the eye roll from Phelps at these words, “but I feel I have much to offer in that role and I look forward to the new challenge.  I have enjoyed my time with NCIS and working with a fine group of dedicated co-workers.”_

_There was a moment’s silence which was ended by a round of applause led by Secretary Phelps._

_“I am sure we all appreciate Director Vance’s dedicated service,” he said, “and wish him well in his new responsibilities.”_

_There were nods of varying degrees of enthusiasm from his listeners and people began to drift back to their work._

_“I hadn’t intended to make the announcement of Director Vance’s successor today,” continued Phelps, “but as by a happy chance the next incumbent is here today I will take the opportunity.”_

_The drift back to work stopped as people looked around trying to guess who Phelps was talking about.  Most eyes swivelled to Agent Gibbs who took a sip of his coffee in a stoic manner.  Director Vance looked at him suspiciously as he wondered if Gibbs had been half-hearted in his efforts to dish the dirt on the new Secretary._

_“When I was discussing the future of this agency Director Vance was kind enough to give me some thoughts about the qualifications required for the post,” said Phelps.  Vance directed a jaundiced look at him; somehow that wasn’t how he remembered the conversation.  “And,” continued Phelps, “I was in complete agreement with him that experience of law enforcement was a given.  I also wanted to appoint someone who had considerable experience of working for this particular agency.”_

_The eyes once more focussed on Gibbs._

_“And so I am delighted to tell you that the next Director will be Anthony DiNozzo who I am sure you all know well.”_

_The eyes swivelled away from Gibbs and on to Tony who, dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirt, had chosen that day to come visit his former co-workers._

_End flashback._

“I’m not sure Vance will ever believe that it was pure coincidence that I turned up that day,” mused Tony.  “I’ll have to talk him down otherwise his new ‘body’ might decide that the interests of interagency co-operation are best served by there being one less agency – ours!”

“How did this all happen?” asked Tim.

“How did what happen?” asked Tony innocently.

“You know exactly what I mean, To – I mean, Director.”

“It wasn’t planned,” said Tony defensively.  “It was when I was at Johns Hopkins …”

“Woah, back up there,” interrupted McGee, “Johns Hopkins?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Tony a little sheepishly, “I’ve been doing an MBA …”

“MBA?”

“Master of Business Administration,” said Tony.

“I know what it is,” said Tim, “why were you doing one?”

“You know,” said Tony severely, “this would go a lot quicker if you stopped interrupting me.”

Tim nodded penitently.

“I decided I needed another qualification,” said Tony, “and it seemed an MBA would be useful.  I’d given up field work and I didn’t know what I wanted to do.  But a business career didn’t appeal much.”

“But you signed up for an MBA?  A qualification with _Business_ in its title?”

“Johns Hopkins do one designed for people who want to go into public service.  That seemed to fit the bill.  I applied, was accepted and even got a scholarship.  I had to make arrangements for some hands-on project work and I ran into Truman.”

“Truman Phelps?  The new SecNav?”

Tony nodded.  “You remember Travis?  Piggy?  Oh, perhaps you don’t.  It was Bishop who came with me to Remington Military Academy.  Anyway, Travis Phelps and I were friends at prep school.  Truman’s his younger brother.  When Travis and I hooked up again, I’d run into Truman sometimes.  He was president of a not-for-profit housing co-operative and it was a perfect place for my project.  Next thing I know he’s new SecNav and asking me to be Director.”

“Wow,” said Tim, “I’d better check my old yearbooks.  See if _I_ know anyone who’s become so powerful.”

Tony shrugged.  “So, you said you wanted to talk about your career?”

“Yeah.  After our talk the other night, I got to wondering if I want to stay as a field agent.”

Tony nodded.

“It’s not that I don’t think I can _do_ the job,” Tim added hastily, “it’s just that …”

“You’re not sure you want to,” suggested Tony.

“I guess,” agreed Tim.  “I mean, I’ve loved it.  Well, most of it.  And I know it’s important.  And it’s exciting.  No two days the same.”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” said Tony, “you having second thoughts?”

“No,” said Tim, “but I guess it depends on what the options are.”

“Has Vance offered you a job?” asked Tony.

“Yeah, he has.  Almost the first thing he did.”

“You’d be good,” said Tony, “it’s got potential.  Great opportunity.  Good career move.”

“So I guess I should accept,” said Tim with a sigh which suggested he wasn’t enthused by the idea.

“But I hope you won’t,” said Tony.

“You do?” said Tim with a hint of hope.

“I think you should come off Gibbs’ team,” said Tony, “not that you haven’t done a good job but your computer skills are off the scale and are wasted on the MCRT.  We’re going to beef up the cyber team.  And I want you to head it up.  And develop new protocols for how we use our computer skills.”

“Why?”

Tony looked at Tim sternly.  “We need to make sure all our actions are squeaky clean.  I know you always try to get warrants and so on … but we skate close to the line sometimes.  I want to make sure we don’t cross that line.  No point catching the bad guys only to have them get away in court.”

Tim nodded and Tony sensed a degree of relief that cyber geeks were about to be reined in.

“Good,” said Tony standing up, “The new job will be at Assistant Director level but we’ll work out the details later.  Now, let’s go and get this speech out of the way.”

“Thank you, Director,” said Tim formally.

“Thank you,” said Tony, “McChiefcybergeek!”

NCISNCIS

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Truman Phelps, “I want to present your new Director.  Director Anthony DiNozzo.”

The staff assembled in the squad room gave a round of applause.  Abby jumped up and down and squealed, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Secretary Phelps smiled benevolently.

“I am aware that many of you have known Director DiNozzo for many years from the time when he served as a special agent.  I first met him when he was a teenager attending the same military academy as my brother and I.  I came to admire him for the friendship he showed to my brother Travis and for his commitment to the ethos of the school.  I was impressed, many years later, when I discovered that he had gone back to school for an MBA …” he paused and looked in Gibbs’ direction from where something like a snort had emanated.  “That also showed commitment … and when I was appointed as Secretary of the Navy I thought of him as an ideal candidate for my new Director.  He brings a wealth of law enforcement experience combined with business awareness and I trust, and expect, that you will afford him every co-operation and support.  Anthony DiNozzo!”

Tony raised his hand to halt another round of applause.

“Thank you.  I can see that many of you are surprised by this appointment.  Can I just say, that none of you are as surprised as me!  It took a long time for Secretary Phelps to convince me that I was the right person for the job.  I hope it won’t take me as long to convince _you.”_

_“_ It won’t, it won’t, it won’t,” chirruped Abby.

“I was trying to decide what to say to you all today,” continued Tony, “but in the end I decided I could do no better than to remind you of the NCIS oath:

_I am an NCIS Special Agent. My duty is to serve and protect the United States and our Navy and Marine Corps across global boundaries.  As a criminal investigator, I vigorously pursue the truth and remain objective at all times. I recognize my badge is a symbol of authority and public trust. I will live my life above reproach, understanding my actions reflect upon my fellow Special Agents and our agency. Like those who came before me, I am always mindful that professionalism, integrity and honour are the very foundation of the NCIS_.

I want us to hold that oath at the core of what we do.  I want us to be passionate in our quest for justice but to remember always that it is _justice_ we seek and not revenge.  That in order to serve our country and the navy we have to uphold the values that make both great and that we demean ourselves if we deviate from our oath.  I look forward to working with all of you to continue with our mission of service and protection. Thank you!”

There was another round of applause.

“OK,” said Tony, “back to work!”

There was a burst of laughter and people began to disperse.

“Director DiNozzo,” said Ducky, “may I add my own words of hearty congratulation?”

“Thanks, Ducky.”

“It is marvellous to welcome you back where you belong.  And with such stirring words.  It reminded me of the words my ancestor Major Monty Mallard spoke to his men in Normandy.  He said, ‘men …’”

“He’s heard it before, Duck,” interrupted Gibbs.

“Indeed,” said Ducky.  He looked at Gibbs and Tony and decided that an important conversation was brewing so his presence was not needed.  He inclined his head gracefully in farewell.  “You are welcome any time in autopsy, Director,” he said, “as a visitor, of course, not an occupant.”

“So,” said Gibbs, “ _director_ , eh?”

“That’s what the man said,” replied Tony.

“You didn’t say anything when you came calling the other day,” said Gibbs.

“Hadn’t decided,” said Tony, “I was still thinking about it.”

“So why did you come see me?”

“I was checking something,” said Tony.

“What?  You said you came to see if anything had changed.  Was that what you were checking?  Seeing if you and I could get along?”

“Not exactly,” said Tony.

“Then what?”

“I don’t really need to ‘get along’ with you.  I figure it’s up to _you_ to get along with _me_.”

“There won’t be any problem,” said Gibbs, “not if you live up to your fine words just now.”

“I do what I say,” said Tony, “you should know that by now.”

Gibbs nodded in acknowledgement.

“You want to know why I came round?”

“Sure.”

“I wanted to see if you could still intimidate me.  I don’t know how you did it but Vance arrived here as Director determined to be independent but you brought him round to your way of thinking and your way of doing things.  I wanted to be sure that wouldn’t happen to me.”

“And you are sure?” asked Gibbs.

“Yeah.  I admire and respect the hell out of you, Gibbs.  You taught me a lot.  But some of what you taught me … well, I don’t want to follow you in everything.”

“And you think you’re your own man now, DiNozzo?”

“Yes, I am.  And I expect you to respect that, Agent Gibbs.”

“I’ll challenge you if I think you’re wrong,” warned Gibbs.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” said Tony, “but I’ll expect _you_ to remember who’s in charge.  The buck stops with me, Gibbs.  And I’m happy with that but I don’t want it to stop with me for something I didn’t approve.  Understood?”

Gibbs gazed at Tony for a moment or two and then broke out one of his rare smiles.

“Understood.  Director.”

Tony nodded and moved away.  As he walked back up the stairs to his office he was approached by Jimmy Palmer.

“To – I mean, Director.  I just wanted to add my congratulations.  Say how great it is to have you back.”

“Thanks, Autopsy Gremlin,” said Tony with a smile.  “It’s good to be back.”

“So,” said Jimmy, “an MBA, eh?”

“Not quite yet,” said Tony, “but I’ve switched to a part-time course and it’s mostly writing up my thesis.  At the moment the only MBA attached to my name stands for moving back again.”

“I think it’s great,” said Jimmy, “and it must have impressed the new SecNav.  I mean the real MBA, not the moving back again although that’s useful too, of course.   And I guess it - the actual MBA, will be a great help in being Director.”

“Hmm,” said Tony doubtfully, “I think it was something else that convinced him to give me the job.”

“What was that?”

“Being a father to a young child.”

“What?  Why?”

Tony gazed down to where Gibbs was sitting at his desk.  “It’s trained me to resist unreasonable demands and not to be phased by tantrums.”

He patted Jimmy on the shoulder and carried on upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to RainyDayReader for guessing where the new SecNav first knew Tony!
> 
> This is intended as a one shot - I don't plan to write any more stories with Tony as Director.


End file.
